


Thanks, For Everything

by Lhugy_for_short



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, M/M, Noctis doesn't deal with death well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 12:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18121019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: When Noctis wakes up, he's in a strange bed in a broken hotel room in what's left of Altissia. Luna is there, and Prompto and Gladio, too. But it's been weeks since he last saw Ignis, and no one seems willing to look him in the eye....(Canon divergence - Luna survives Altissia; Ignis does not. And Noct...doesn't handle it well)





	Thanks, For Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for 'NP,' who requested this originally over on the kink meme. They asked for Ignoct, but with Ignis dying in Altissia instead of Luna, and the proceeding angst. 
> 
> I hope this is sad enough for you lol
> 
> Thank you so much for the support!!!

 

The vision is so clear, so vivid, every time. Noct’s dreams have never been like this before - full of color and light and smells, more real, he thinks, than real life. The first few times, he’s scared. Turns his mind away from the overwhelming power of it, unable or maybe unwilling to see what waits for him in the shimmering currents of blues and emeralds. But always, it returns; again and again, calling out to him like a voice he knows far too well. 

Between the fleeting hours of lucidity when he lies awake in an unfamiliar bed and these fevered dreams, Noctis tries to remember. He searches for memories of the sea rising up all around him, drowning out the sounds of battle, the screams, the rain. Memories of the Tidemother, of a figure upon the altar lending him strength even as the city of Altissia falls to ruin at his back. Memories of fear, too, then falling, falling, and agonizing pain. The rest, at least to him, is swallowed up in black. 

Sometimes, when he wakes in the bed in the room he doesn’t know, he’s all alone. In these hours he hugs his knees to his chest and cries, sobs, screams into the pillows until his throat is raw and bleeding. It’s the only way to drown out the silence in his head. 

Other times, he opens his eyes to find someone sitting with him, and for a while the empty void in his chest is quelled. Gladio and Prompto come to see him the most. They always bring gifts - chocolates, photos, slightly waterlogged books - but they never stay long, and they avoid his gaze. They say he needs more time, that he needs to recover before they can really talk. But Noct thinks they’re the ones who are still healing. 

Luna comes, too, when she can. The first time Noctis saw her, gripping her bandaged arm to her chest and eyes brimming with tears, he remembered what it was like to feel relief. They’d hugged - albeit awkwardly with her injuries - and she’d assured him the Covenant with Leviathan had been forged. But even she refuses to speak in detail of the battle, or answer how much time has passed already since then. 

Time slips through his fingers as easily as Noct slips in and out of consciousness. He wonders when he’ll be well enough to leave again, and why, out of everyone, only Ignis hasn’t come to see him yet. Fears fill in the gaps of knowing. What if Iggy’s been hurt, he thinks. What if he’s lying in another bed in some other part of the hotel? So close, and yet Noct feels he’s being kept away. He misses Ignis, badly, but Noct is frightened to ask the others. They already treat him as though he’s fragile as glass. As soon as he recovers his strength, though, he intends to go find Ignis himself, with or without help. 

Yet while he has some small glimmers of hope, the aching void inside him remains constant, and that, more than anything, has him scared. It feels as if his chest has been ripped open, the contents pulled from him and scattered to the wind, leaving him empty, cold, always shivering. There’s a nagging, too, at the back of his mind. Something forgotten, something he both wants and doesn’t want to remember, because he’s terrified of what he might find. 

So Noct rests, day in and day out, as the nights grow ever longer outside his hotel window. And slowly, without noticing, he slips further and further into his dreams. 

* * *

Emerald, all around like a crystal sea. It’s beautiful and terrible all at once, but Noctis has been here before. It’s becoming familiar now that his mind grows stronger; now that he’s grown curious enough about this dream to begin to explore. Fear still cautions him, but somehow the weight in his chest feels lighter here, so he pushes on. He knows, without fully understanding, the right way to go.

But as the lights and colors swirl up ahead, coalescing around a figure he recognizes all too easily, Noct suddenly isn’t sure he’s ready for the answers he’s meant to find here. Panic tugs at him. Tries to urge him not to race forward, to trip over his own feet in his desperation to reach Ignis. There’s no doubt in his mind that it’s him, and yet...his heart races with far more than simply joy. 

“Iggy! Specs!” he calls out. His voice doesn’t carry far in the space between them, but Ignis turns anyway as if he’s heard. “There you are! I’ve been wondering where...you….” 

The tears start to fall before he even knows he’s crying. 

Scars where there shouldn’t be; the flesh around Ignis’ eyes is burned, the pupils nearly white where Noct remembers brilliant green. Yet despite the injuries, Ignis still favors him with a smile as from his lips tumbles a voice that sounds unnaturally far away.  _ Noctis. I’ve been waiting. The Kings’ last gift of patience has worn thin, I’m afraid. But I’m so glad to be able to see you one last time.  _

“N-no. W-what...are you saying? Iggy, your eyes, wh--”

_ The price was steep, but I have no regrets. For you, _ he says, and reaches forward to take Noctis’ left hand between his own.  _ Will always be with me, just as I am with you.  _

This can’t be. This is a dream, a horrible, treacherous nightmare and all he wants is to wake up. 

_ Wake up!  _

Cold steel touches him, sliding up the length of his fourth finger to fit snugly against his knuckle. Black, smooth, set with crystal rather than stone - the Ring of the Lucii. But why would Ignis…?

“You know, I had always hoped we might do this proper one day, Highness.” His voice, much closer now, pulls a sob from Noct’s throat. “Peace, in a future forged together for us. A future in which I could stand by your side….”

“Stop, s-stop talking like you’re--”

“I love you, Noctis. I always have and always will. You’ve got to be strong.”

“Iggy?  _ Iggy!”  _

Too late. He’s fading, along with the lights and colors and even the air, until there’s nothing left but that horrible  _ void _ . Staring into its depths feels like staring into death itself. Cold, empty, hopeless.  _ Wrong _ . 

Noctis’ screams wake the entire hotel. 

* * *

The room is unnaturally silent. Prompto, always good for a laugh even in the darkest hour, sits at the foot of his bed with his face buried in his hands. Sobbing. Across from him is Gladio, his eyes hard and cold and fixed on the floor at his feet. He looks like he’s trying to will it to drop out from under him, that he might fall through to the room below, or even straight down to the sea. Anywhere but here.

Luna is the only one who’s still talking to him. She’s the only one still holding his hand, clenched into a fist as it is, between her own, lending him what little strength she can through the simple gesture. 

But it isn’t enough, nothing could ever be enough. Not to fix this... _ this nightmare. _

Dead. Ignis is  _ dead! _ \- and they kept that from him for weeks. Weeks! Iggy’s body lay at the bottom of the sea by now and no one had even  _ fucking  _ thought to tell him so he could  _ fucking  _ grieve!  _ His Iggy! Dead!  _

The shock makes it sound like a godsdamned joke. He’d laugh if his throat weren’t bloodied from screaming, but even that pain is nothing to him. Noct is numb, empty from the inside out and trapped inside this nightmare. 

But he has to say something. He can’t stand Prompto’s sobs for another second when he can’t even cry himself. 

“Tell me,” he says, in a voice that sounds like gravel and tastes like ash. “Tell me how it happened.” 

And as Luna begins to speak, the memories flood back into him like a tidal wave. 

_ - _

_ Roaring. Water cascades all around him, rushing in seemingly every direction at once. Distantly, he can hear Leviathan’s cry echo in a pulsing answer to...someone. Luna? He remembers seeing her atop the altar surrounded by a flash of light, and then…. _

_ Pain shoots up his side, but the scream that tears from his lips is lost to the roar of the waves. What happened? _

(He’d fallen, Luna tells him. Leviathan had won the fight.)

_ Something massive passes in front of his vision then. A stone, large as a building and dry as land in the middle of the sea, flies overhead. There’s another cry, this time earthy, hollow, deep. Familiar. It’s Titan, but how had he gotten there? _

(Summoned by the Covenant, Luna explains.) 

_ A battle wages between the two Astrals, and Noct is adrift in the raging sea.  A voice calls out to him - distant but he knows in his heart it’s Ignis. That’s him running through the spray; those are his hands reaching out to catch him, to drag him out of the water onto solid ground. But there’s something wrong - Ignis is crying, holding him too tight and yet Noctis can’t even move to comfort him. Panic clouds his memories. He knows only a flash of light, and a terrible heat as if his whole body is burning.  _

_ No…. _

_ No, not him. It’s Ignis who is consumed in flames. _

 

Though Luna says she doesn't understand what happened after that, Noct thinks he does. He thinks he understands what Ignis must have felt in that moment, how fear and desperation must have driven him to put on the Ring. To call upon the power of the ancient Lucian kings despite knowing they would reject his blood. To ask for them to take his own life that Noct’s be spared, an ultimate sacrifice made out of both loyalty and love. 

Noctis understands because he would have done the same if it’d been Ignis who lay broken in his arms. Of course he would have, without hesitation. Dying for love would be easy - it’s the burden of being left behind that he doesn’t think he can bear. 

* * *

_ Several weeks later… _

-

“The hell is wrong with you?” 

There’s a moment, in the split second before he falls into the trap again, that Noct considers just warping right out of the train. Away from Gladio, who’s towering over him in the aisle; away from Prompto and Luna, both sitting nearby in uncomfortable silence. He imagines flinging himself head-first toward the monotonous, rocky terrain hurdling past the window to end it all on the side of some sun-baked boulder. Splat, fade to black. The thought is  _ almost _ enough to bring a smile to his face. 

Yet even that is fleeting. He blinks and he’s still on the train. Gladio’s still standing over him, arms folded and mouth drawn tight like he’s itching to pick a fight. 

_ Fuck it,  _ Noct thinks.  _ Got nothing left to lose. _

“What?” he replies instead, casting a scowl up at his Shield. 

Gladio bites. “I’m asking how much longer you’re gonna drag this out. This isn’t Altissia anymore, in case you haven’t noticed. Time to grow up, move on.” 

“I  _ am _ moving on,” Noct lies. As he pushes himself to his feet, the ground threatens to spin away beneath him. “I’m here, aren’t I?”  

“Just so we’re clear, you’re not the only one who misses him.” Amber eyes flicker between anger, sadness, rage. “So when you're done feeling sorry for yourself, maybe you can look around and start giving a shit about the rest of us.” 

“Let go of me,” Noct spits as Gladio grabs for his arm. He could do it - he could pull his sword out right here and end this whole fucking conversation. He's heard it all before, anyway. Nothing changed then, nothing’s gonna change now, because there's nothing Gladio can say that-- 

“How’s that ring fit ya?” 

The anger deflates from Noctis like air from a popped balloon.

“You'd still rather carry it around than wear it?” he continues. His voice is lower now, digs deeper because he  _ wants it to. _ “Iggy gave his  _ life  _ so you could do your duty. His death is worth more than…than  _ fucking this. _ ”

“You don’t think I know that?” 

“Then act like it! You've been so busy moping you haven't even asked how Luna’s holding up. She lost Ravus too, and for what?

Across the aisle, Luna bites her lip. “Gladio, please. That’s enough.”

“You think you’re a king,” he continues anyway. “But you just look like a coward to me.” 

“Shut up…just shut up!” 

“Guys, don’t do thi--”  

Gladio shoves Prompto aside before he can intervene, and comes right for Noctis instead. Curls both fists in the front of his t-shirt and pulls him in close enough that Noct can see him even through the tears in his eyes. “Stop wasting his sacrifice because you're too damn scared to face the truth.”

It stings more than if Gladio had just slapped him across the face. Chest tight, eyes burning, he pushes Gladio off him with all the strength he can muster. “I get it, alright? I get it!” he shouts, but the words mean nothing; they taste like guilt on his tongue. “ _ Fuck! _ ” 

“Then get a grip! Pull your head outta your ass already, Noct!”

“N-Noct!”

Both Prompto and Luna call out after him as his boots begin to pound down the aisle of the train. Running, he doesn't know or care where to. Maybe Gladio’s right about him being scared, a coward. Maybe that makes Ignis wrong.

Maybe he really did die for nothing. 

Severals cars between him and his friends, Noct finally collapses into an empty seat. In his palm, the Ring of the Lucii weighs like a curse, daring him to peel back his trembling fingers and see the reality of its burden on him. 

So, so small a thing. The Ring seems so trivial in his hand, nothing but metal and stone. Ancient kings? Limitless power? Noct laughs, harsh through his tears. What good is any of it if he still can't protect the ones he loves most? 

The train marches on, the sound just loud enough to drown out his sobs. 

* * *

He's standing there, right in front of them, and yet Noctis can't seem to believe his eyes. Somewhere on the edge of his periphery Luna screams, and it’s her voice that finally snaps them all out of their stupor.

“ _ Ravus! _ ”

“W-wait! That's not--”

She doesn't listen or doesn't hear Prompto. Dashes past him where her brother - or at least the  _ thing  _ that was once him - lumbers through the hangar doors. Pale skin twisted and melded with purplish-black, horns jutting from his skull above eyes void of life. Half demon, half corpse; a cruel mockery of his memory made to dance on invisible strings. 

Noct is the last defense, and he grabs for Luna as she rushes past. “Ardyn, you sick fuck! What kind of game is this?” 

Against his shoulder, Luna hides her eyes from the sight as a voice from everywhere at once chuckles in reply. “I thought you’d be pleased to see him one last time,” Ardyn says, as if the monster lurching toward them were some sort of gift. “He's been  _ dying _ to meet you all. Just look how excited he is.”

There's something distinctly Ravus-like in the monster’s voice when it cries out. Pain, anger, and with the last of its humanity it begs them to kill it, to end its suffering. Noctis draws his sword. 

“No! He's still in there!” Luna cries. “We must try to save him!”

“That's insane!”

“Please! I cannot let it end like this!”

A moment of hesitation. That's all it takes before the demon’s wrath is upon them, massive claws as black as night arcing through the air toward them both. Too fast for Noctis to find his feet in time, to warp them both to safety. But not too fast for Gladio. He slams his shield full force into the attack, throwing not-Ravus back to skid across the metal floor.

“Go! We got this!” 

Watching the demon writhe, the only thought running through Noct’s mind is:  _ what if it had been Iggy? _

“Noct! Get to the crystal! You gotta go!” 

Gladio’s voice shocks him into motion. There may be nothing they can do for Ravus now, despite Luna’s desperate pleas, but there's still time to stop the rest of Ardyn’s plans. To stop him before he can do this to anyone else. 

Entrusting the fight to his friends, Noct makes a dash for the elevator beyond the doors. 

 

The Crystal calls out from its pedestal. Glimmering, glinting, its ancient light senses his presence, beckons not to him but directly to his  _ soul _ . Pulling him closer, closer, a summons he cannot refuse. 

“Please...help me stop the daemons.” 

Yet something is wrong. The Crystal’s power stays teasingly out of reach, shrinking into itself even as he tries to grasp it.  _ Into the light; what he seeks is waiting there. All he need do is follow it deeper.  _

Too late, Noct realizes his mistake. 

“W-why?!” he shouts. Light pulses out from the Crystal, swarming around him and lifting him inch by inch right up into the air no matter how he struggles or tries to break free. A trap? Could Ardyn have known this would happen?

Boots sound on the metal grating behind him, and Noct whirls to see the grand orchestrator himself leisurely make his approach. 

“Unharmed by the Light. The Chosen King, indeed,” Ardyn smirks. He spreads his hands in an almost bored gesture - one that makes Noctis’ fingers itch for the weight of his sword. 

“You! All of this is your fault!”

“Allow me to regale you with a tale, so long as you’re just hanging about. It takes place in an age long past, when an incurable scourge ravaged mankind. A tiny menace twisted men into monsters,” he said, with a hint of amusement in his smile. “The likes of which I believe you have seen.”

_ Ravus _ , Noct’s mind supplied in its panic.  _ The daemons.  _ “You’re sick.” 

Ardyn laughed. “How did you enjoy my work on the dear Nox Fleuret boy? The transformation was almost too easy with him, hardly a challenge. But that dead boyfriend of yours….  _ He  _ would have made an excellent ‘catch,’ don’t you think?”   

Whatever else Ardyn says, whatever words come out of that foul mouth of his, are lost to the roar of blood in Noctis’ ears. Fury, rage like he’s never felt before, ripple through him as if amplified by the Crystal’s power and he screams, useless into the burning light.

But even that is swallowed up by magic.

Ardyn’s mocking laughter is the last thing he hears before the Crystal consumes him completely. “Come back soon,  _ prince _ . I shall keep your friends company until you are ready.” 

-

Nothingness. Silence. An empty void. Here, he is neither living nor dead. Does he even exist at all? Only the gods who’ve trapped him here can know for sure. 

And so he floats through time and space, left completely and utterly alone with his spiraling thoughts. There's nowhere to escape from them here, nowhere to run when the grief and the sadness swell up to overwhelm him. No one to comfort him, no one to scold him, no one to bear the brunt of his rage. 

_ Ignis. I miss you,  _ he cries into the vast emptiness. 

_ I'm sorry I was so weak.  _

_ I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye.  _

_ Please.  _

_ Forgive me.  _

_ I love you.  _

The words choke him every time they tear from his throat. But in their wake, he finds that his breath comes a little bit easier. 

 

He's met them all now, so many times in his waking dreams. His father, Ignis, Ravus, a glaive whose name he only half remembers. Ghosts, maybe, or figments of his imagination created from his need for closure. A chance to say goodbye to those who died believing in him, who loved him, and who he loved in return. 

A chance to thank them. 

The Crystal has taught him many things, but most importantly it’s taught him the power of sacrifice. Noct can’t escape Bahamut’s words anymore than he can escape the reality of the prophecy tied to his bloodline. But what he  _ can _ do is try to understand. 

He understands how his father felt that day, sending him off from the steps of the Citadel, knowing it would be for the last time. 

He understands why Ravus stood against the forces he once called allies to do what felt right in his heart. 

He understands why the Glaives continued to fight and die in the name of a kingdom that wasn’t their home, that they might someday bring freedom back to their families. 

And he understands the choice Ignis had to make, as well. What relief he must have felt, putting on that ring and knowing his prayers would be answered. It’s the same lightness Noct feels in his chest now, though his own journey is still so far from its end. Hope, even in the face of death, is a powerful magic indeed.

_ Thank you _ , he whispers to the Ignis of his memories.  _ For everything.  _

Warmth swallows him, radiating out from the ring on his finger and yet every bit as real as if it were Iggy’s arms. Noct allows his eyes to drift closed as sinks into the brilliant light. One last embrace. At last, he thinks he’s finally ready to say goodbye….

 

The next time he opens his eyes, it’s to the darkness of a prison surrounded by the sea.


End file.
